


Slow Burn

by Dazzledfirestar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Gentle Sex, Oral Sex, talking about Captain America keeps Phil awake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dazzledfirestar/pseuds/Dazzledfirestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha didn't expect to hear "No." the first night, but she was a patient woman and she knew life could take many interesting turns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XIV. prompts: trust, secret, surprise, faith

“No.”

She didn’t show her shock, of course. She was better than that, but to think this man was telling her no seemed unreal. She’d charmed every person she’d been tasked to charm—or more—throughout her career. Granted, this was a special circumstance, not a mission so much as a… enthusiastic thank you. But still, not many men had the fortitude to turn Natasha Romanoff away while she stood in their doorway in a trench coat, lingerie and nothing else.

“No?”

“That’s right. No.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the door frame. “I can’t speak to how your former handlers worked, Agent Romanoff, but this—“ He motioned to her outfit, “is not how thing work with me.”

She pulled her coat closed and nodded. “Understood.”

“Good. Have a pleasant evening.” He nodded once and the door closed. She stared at the panel for a moment. She’d missed something here. She was sure of it. She’d done the research. Not married. Not in any committed relationship that would bar one from sleeping with a beautiful woman. And he was interested in women, so it wasn’t that.

She haled a cab and headed back to her SHIELD provided apartment. Curious. Very curious.

~*~*~*~

She knocked on his office door the next morning. “Sir?”

“Ah, Agent Romanoff. I was just going to call you.”

“Oh?” Had he changed his mind? She smiled and sat down.

“Director Fury would like you to handle this.” He handed a file across the desk.

Maybe her smile faded just a little. “Of course.”

He sighed. Of course, he noticed. SHIELD was making her sloppy. “Agent Romanoff… Natasha.” She lifted her head, trying to recall if he’d ever used her given name before. She couldn’t remember. “I don’t sleep with new assets. You are very lovely and I’m sure you’d have shown me the night of my life.” She couldn’t help but laugh and he smiled. “But I’m not going to use my position as your handler to get laid.”

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“You show up at everyone’s door in lingerie in the middle of the night then?”

She laughed again. How was he so good at getting her to relax? It was a gift, she was sure of it. “No. Of course, my intention was to sleep with you but it wasn’t my intention to imply that there was any abuse of power going on.” She looked him in the eye. “I wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t wanted to be.”

He cleared his throat and shuffled a few pages on his desk. She admired his conviction on this. Most men would have crumbled at that admission. That hadn’t been the purpose behind it. The statement was true and the more he turned her down, the more she wondered what was under those lovely suits. But he was going to keep things professional obviously. That made her like him more than anything else. 

He motioned to the file in her hand. Back to work, then. She smiled and opened it. “It’s surveillance for now. We thought we were looking at trafficking issues but they’re funneling the money through ten different numbered accounts.”

“As if that would stop SHIELD.” She smiled.

“Of course not.” He chuckled and she found she liked making him do that. “The money eventually ends up with a group calling themselves the Ten Rings. Standard terrorist cells. But they’re highly motivated.”

“That’s never good.” She sighed and skimmed the pages. “So this one.” She poked a finger at the picture of their target. “Is he a leader?”

“Middle man. But there’s a lot of coming and going from his home in Oslo so…”

“Mhmm.”

“Record what you can. Depending on what we find out, we’ll see what the next order is. Barton will be your back up. I’ll be your contact.”

“Understood.” She was already half way to the Quinjet when what he had first said sunk it. New assets… hmmm. Interesting. Very interesting.

~*~*~*~

It lingered in the back of her mind for years. She never pushed. Never wondered when her position as a “new asset” might be retired and she would just become an asset. Or if it had happened already and she just hadn’t had the time to notice. Somewhere along the way she, Clint and Coulson became a team. A unit. They worked together more than not and Fury seemed to appreciate their combined shorthand for nearly everything field op related.

The shocking thing to her though was that she trusted them. She had faith that if she turned her back in a fire fight one of them would be there to watch it. Everyone saw her and Clint as partners—and assumed they were likely sleeping together, but people were always fond of their assumptions—but few noticed that Coulson was part of the package too. Any handler that took his place would end up shaking their head and handing the job back to Phil in record time.

But it was more than work. She didn’t believe in romantic love. But she believed in people she could trust with her life and that number could be counted on one hand. She had somehow been thankful that Clint had dragged Phil out of the forgotten warehouse they found him in before she turned her full attention on his captor. They’d only had Phil for a day or so. He wasn’t in very bad shape, a little beaten, bruised… a little blood but nothing that wouldn’t heal.

His captor couldn’t make that claim. Or couldn’t have if he’d survived, but that was classified.

Clint kept watch at the safe house. Phil patched himself up as best he could, Natasha did the rest. “You need to stay awake.”

“I don’t have a concussion. I’ll be alright.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “We don’t know that. And we don’t know how well we can trust your memory at the moment. You’d say the same to either or us.”

He glared at her as best he could with one cheek swollen. But she helped him over to the too-thin mattress and helped him down. “Fine. Does that mean you’re on alarm clock duty then?”

“I am.”

“How long until extraction.”

“Day after tomorrow.” She ignored the sharp hiss he let out as he lay down. The stitches she had to put in his shoulder must have pulled. “Apparently there’s a storm front in the area. It’ll be over us by tomorrow and they couldn’t get an air lift here before then.”

“Wonderful.”

“Mhmm.” She sighed as he closed her eyes. She hated trying to find idle things to keep people awake. She remembered a joke Clint had told her but… well, Barton’s sense of humor being what it was, it was questionable. But it was something. “A man and a woman started to have sex in the middle of a dark forest.” Coulson’s eyes opened and an eyebrow crept up, but she kept going. “After about 15 minutes of it, the man finally gets up and says, ‘Damn, I wish I had a flashlight!’ The woman says, ‘Me too, you've been eating grass for the past ten minutes!’”

He laughed. It was probably the most open and honest sound she ever heard come out of him. “Did Barton tell you that one?”

She smiled. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Figured.” He sat up, hissing again and adjusting the pillows. “Did he tell you any more?”

“A few.” She rattled off a few more of Clint’s choicer jokes until Coulson started to blink again, settling too far into the pillows. She tried small talk after that. Told him stories of what she thought was her life before the Red Room, she could never be sure but she trusted him with that information. She asked him questions too, but the answers got shorter as he started to doze off. “Not yet.” She took hold of his chin and he blinked up at her again.

“I’m awake.”

“Barely.”

“It still counts.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Whatever you say.” An idea occurred to her. “Tell me about Captain America.”

And he did, for nearly an hour. She smiled and asked questions when appropriate. The twinkle in his eyes made her smile more and as he started to fade again, she did something irrational. She leaned down and kissed him. It wasn’t nearly as chaste as it should have been, but his eyes flickered open and confusion took over. “Did you… was that to keep me awake or…”

“We’ll talk about it when you’re healed up. Now, tell me about this movie? Captain America and the… what was it?”

He relaxed again and sighed. “You’re not getting out of this conversation that easily, Agent Romanoff.” He shook his head. “ _Captain America and the Night Shift._ ”

“I am not trying to get out of anything, sir.” She smiled. “I would rather you were focused completely on the conversation and not on biting back the amount of pain you are no doubt in.” She waved a hand. “Ah, yes. Tell me about it.”

“I did already.”

“Tell me again.”

~*~*~*~

“Do you have plans tonight?”

The question caught her off guard and she had to think about it for a moment. “No. Nothing I can’t get out of. Is there a mission, sir?”

“No.” He smiled and… was that a blush? Dear God, this was actually going to happen. “I was wondering if you’re free for dinner.”

“I am.” She smiled back. “Would this be related to that conversation we still need to have, sir?”

“Yes, in fact, it would, Agent Romanoff. Seven o’clock?” She nodded and his smile became the one she was far more used to. “Good. I’ll pick you up then.”

She wasn’t used to getting ready for an actual date. Most of the ones she’d been on had been mission related. But at 6:51 she was dressed in an apparently date appropriate little black dress—thanks to Pepper Potts—and she was ready to go. At 6:58 she was opening the door.

“Right on time.”

“Am I ever not?”

“I would have been surprised otherwise.” She stepped back from the door. “Would you like to come in first?”

“Thank you.” He stepped past her into the apartment and she resisted the sudden urge to grab his lapels and kiss him again. That kiss had lingered in her mind in ways she hadn’t thought possible. “It’s a nice place.”

“It should be. SHIELD found it.” She smiled. “Are we going to do the small talk thing or should we just cut to the chase?”

He nodded. “Fair enough. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss.”

“Neither have I.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well…”

“You don’t see it, do you?” She stepped closer. “Phil… when I showed up on your doorstep it wasn’t because you were the person in charge. It wasn’t because I felt obligated to sleep with whoever held my leash.”

“Natasha…”

“I wanted you then. I still do.” She slid her hand under his suit jacket. “If that isn’t what you want, we go back to colleagues… friends. If you walk out, no harm, no foul.”

He took hold of her wrist, pulling her hand from under the jacket and she thought for a moment he’d walk away. “And if I don’t?” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

She pulled him closer, pressing tighter to him as she pressed her lips to his softly. “How did you put it in your office after that first night?” 

A warm laugh left him as he wrapped his arms around her, fingers tracing the seams of the dress, making her acutely aware of how thin the fabric was. “You remember that?”

“I remember every time you almost gave in.” She kissed him again, deepening it slowly. “I want to savor this.”

He smiled, pushing her hair back from her forehead. “That sounds like it should be my line.”

She shook her head, backing him toward her bedroom. “It seems like it might work for both of us.” She reached for the zipper on the dress but he caught her hands.

“Wait…” He turned her around, facing the bed and slowly pulled the zipper down, pressing soft, warm kisses to her skin as he went. She shivered as he moved lower and pulled the dress down off her hips. He kissed his way back up; letting the kisses linger when he found a spot that got a reaction he liked. He sucked softly on her neck when he was on his feet again. “No bra?”

“Didn’t need it.” She grinned at him over her shoulder before she turned to face him. Her fingers found the knot of his tie and she pulled on it, undoing it as she kissed him again. She found she couldn’t get enough of just kissing him which she thought bode well for the rest of the evening. His tie, jacket and shirt were quickly deposited on a chair in the corner of the room and she found herself running her hands over his chest, tracing scars she’d been there for and ones she hadn’t.

He caught her wrists again and kissed her palms. “Lay down.”

She found herself unable to say no to that smirk and she laid herself out on the covers. She was an expert at projecting exactly what she wanted her partners to see but now… she didn’t want this to be like that. She sat up a little and reached out for him. He crawled up to her, kissing her again and holding himself over her. “Phil…” She bit her lip, making a conscious effort to let go of the control she usually carried into situations like this. She’d waited this long to have this chance, she wanted to enjoy it fully without any posturing or manipulation.

“You said you wanted to savor this.” He nipped at her throat. “I want to make it worth savoring.” His mouth moved down her skin, kissing and sucking at the spots that made her moan. She lifted her hips as he got lower and his fingers slipped under the fabric of her panties. He pulled them down, showing her thighs the same thorough attention he’d shown her back while taking her dress off.

She was breathless and very near ready to start begging for him to touch her when he finally slid his tongue over her slit. She cried out, arching up and she swore she could feel him smile against her. Slow, languid passes of his tongue saw her gasping and lifting her hips again, trying to get more. When the tip of his tongue finally flicked over her clit she nearly screamed. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised; the man was ridiculously thorough in everything he did, but whether due to the anticipation or his skill—or both—she felt herself on the edge already. “Phil…”

“First of many, Natasha.” He smiled up at her before sucking on the tiny bundle of nerves and sending her screaming over the edge.

He pulled back enough to let her breathe but every soft kiss to her thigh saw her muscles tightening a little again. Once she had come back to herself, she reached down, cupping his cheek. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m flattered.” He turned his head, kissing her palm. 

She pulled him up to her, kissing his lips as she pulled on his belt and his fly. “I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?” A moment later he kicked off his pants and underwear and settled between her thighs. “Phil, please…” She wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips and pressing tight against him.

He groaned against her throat as he slowly worked himself into her. “Natasha…” 

She cupped his cheeks and kissed him, nipping softly at his bottom lip. “Savor it.”

He chuckled for a moment before he started to move. Slow, measured strokes in and out of her driving moans and gasps from both of them. Her hips lifted, meeting every movement with one of her own. If he were any other man, she’d swear he was making love to her. But he knew her feelings on that subject and most of the time she was almost certain he agreed with at least half of them. For that moment though, kissing him, moving with him, letting the pleasure roll over her in soft waves…

In that moment, she almost regretted not believing in love. But it wasn’t the time to think on that, obviously. As his rhythm stuttered a little she lifted her head, kissing his lips softly. Might as well enjoy the slow burn between them while it lasted.


End file.
